No Church in the Wild
by pinkprancer13
Summary: Kate Benton escaped the cruelty of her father some years ago with the help of her husband, Declan Harp. But as the dangers of the fur trade business loom on her horizon, how safe can she be while antagonizing the man set out to ruin them.
1. Chapter 1

**Goooooood mornin', Vietnam! Just kidding, hello lovely readers, gotta story comin' atcha! This one's based on the new Netflix series (or Discovery Canada if you're Canadian...HI!) "Frontier". Jason Momoa (a.k.a. Khal Drogo) plays Declan Harpe, and he is a just as painfully attractive as ever. But Momoa aside, this series was actually fantastic (I binge watched it in one night which was nothing for me considering there's only 6 episodes right now). I highly recommend it!**

 **Disclaimer: nothing you recognize belongs to me, only my OC and her storyline.**

 **Please enjoy this one, guys, and leave a review!**

Before my mother died, she would often tell me that I would make a better life for myself than she had. At the time, I couldn't think of what she meant. After all, the best life for any Englishwoman was marrying well, bearing children, and living in monotony and submission to your husband.

But, standing in the cold Montreal night, in my leathers and fur, knife in hand, I knew this was what she meant. Even though there were no fine clothes, bountiful meals, or social statuses to achieve, I was living a better life than I could have ever dreamed had I not made the decisions I did.

"Kate," a low voice called to me. Looking up, I saw Sokanon, another member of our company and my dear friend. We moved towards one another.

"Are you with us?" she asked me. I knew she meant mentally.

"Yes, of course," I replied, softly. "Is he ready?"

Sokanon nodded. The _he_ we were referring to was my husband, Declan Harp.

Declan and I met when we were children. His parents had been killed (by my father, although we didn't know it at the time), and my father took over his guardianship. Over the years, we formed a close friendship, neither of us having any love for my father, but a great deal for one another.

Just before my eighteenth birthday, when my father announced that I was to be married to one of the soldiers in his command, and we learned the truth of Declan's parent's deaths, Declan and I ran away. He vowed we would destroy my father for what he'd done to Declan's family, and to protect me from his wrath should he ever find us.

In the meantime, we'd been married and started a fur trading company of our own, a large part of our business being to sack the camps of my father's men and stealing their pelts and supplies.

As Sokanon and I walked back to the center of the soldier's campsite, I nearly laughed at the sight that greeted us.

Our company had quickly and efficiently subdued the camp. A handful of men were collecting supplies and goods we'd be taking with us, while another patrolled the surrounding field. But what really made my heart swell was the scene near the campfire.

Declan had three surviving men on their knees, with their wrists bound behind their backs, lined up with their backs to the campfire. They were beaten, bloody, and crying; the air around them stunk of fear, urine, and the metallic scent of blood. The man in question stood next to the fire, sharpening his favorite knife on a whetstone.

He looked up when he heard our approach. He did not smile at the sight of me, but his eyes softened and he winked. I smiled back at him softly as Sokanon and I came to a stop in front of the line of prisoners.

The survivors (who wouldn't be survivors for long) were whimpering, praying, and begging for their lives, but they would find no mercy here, not from my husband, who simply continued to sharpen his knife. Suddenly, one of them spoke up.

"Please wait, please!" he whimpered. "Have mercy! Please!"

Declan stopped sharpening then, throwing down the whetstone. Flipping the knife in his hand, he stalked over to them like a cougar. The look in his eyes was predatory and filled with bloodlust.

I couldn't lie that I loved to see it.

Coming to stand behind the man that had begged for mercy, Declan murmured, "This is your own doin',"

As the crying intensified, Declan spoke again. "This is not your land; you shouldn't be here."

Crouching down, he whispered, "But don't worry…I'll be seein' ya."

And with that the blood began to flow. Throats were slit, body parts were removed, and skin was flayed. Declan worked until his thirst for blood was quenched.

A while later, when Declan was satisfied with his handiwork, he addressed the company.

"Take the guns, pelts, powders, and supplies. Leave nothing!" he commanded.

Sokanon moved to see what she could do to speed up the process, and I turned to find my husband moving towards me. His knife was already tucked back into his sheath and he was cleaning the blood off his hands.

Declan wrapped me in his arms, burying his face in my honey blonde hair. He turned us so I faced away from the carnage he had caused. Ever since we'd run from my father, Declan had done his best to shield me from the violence. As much as he wanted to seek his fortune in the fur industry and get revenge on my father, Declan's top priority had always been to protect me. It's why we ran in the first place.

Pulling away, he captured my face between his large hands. His stormy eyes searched my green ones before he leaned down to press a searing kiss against my lips. My hands reached up, one cupping his face, the other tangling in his wild hair. After a raid, Declan tended to be a bit…untamed.

Suddenly, we heard a commotion from the other end of the camp. Breaking away from my lips, Declan turned keeping his body between mine and whatever had made all that noise.

Across the camp Samoset was leading an escaped redcoat towards us.

"I found him hiding," he called.

Declan stepped forward, menacingly. He circled the young solder before stopping in front of him, towering over him.

"Do you know who I am, boy?" Declan growled.

The young man gulped. "Declan Harp."

Declan threw an arm around the man, leading him away from us. "I want you to do me a favor. I want you to run on home, and I want you to tell him. You tell him I'm here."

Declan threw him to the ground and the soldier immediately bolted up and away from his sacked campsite to deliver Declan's message.

I knew that the "him" was my father, which meant my father would find out that I was still alive. As if he could tell what I was thinking, Declan threw his arm around my shoulders, drawing me into his side to drop a kiss on the top of my head.

"You're safe," he whispered so only I could hear.

As Declan and I watched him flee into the night, Samoset came to stand on Declan's other side, his old face full of concern.

"You're lettin' him live; word will spread," he mused. "They'll know this was you."

Declan didn't flinch. "I'm countin' on it,"


	2. Author's Note

Hello, lovelies!

I know it's been a HOT minute since I've updated this story. I mean, technically, I never updated it; I just posted the one chapter and left it alone. However, with the new season of Frontier out (spoiler alert: I already watched it all, twice!), do you guys still want to see more of this story? I've had sporadic favorites and follows, and a rare review here and there, but I need to know if y'all are still interested. If there's interest, I will ABSOLUTELY pick it back up, but if not, there's some other projects I want to start.

Basically, I need to know where y'all are on this story, because YOU GUYS are who I write for. I have plenty of stuff I've written for myself, but it's important for me to produce and publish content for my readers. SOOOOOOOO...please drop me a review or PM me if you want to see more Declan and Kate, and if the interest is still there, I hope to start updating on a regular schedule as soon as this semester quiets down.

Until next time, my loves! xx

EDIT: I know this note was JUST posted, but it has been brought to my attention by a guest reviewer that some one on Wattpad (username: Adventure3701) has stolen the first chapter of this story to fuel their own "Frontier" fic. To be quite honest, this kind of behavior makes me not want to update, and I'm sure many of you can relate.

Fanfiction writers work really fucking hard to put out the best content we can and we do it for NOTHING. Nobody pays us, we sacrifice our own time, and, since many people don't see it as a legitimate form of writing, we often do it in secret.

I'd like to thank the guest who pointed this out to me.


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